


You Have the Right to Remain Aroused

by orphan_account



Series: To Serve and Protect AU [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Handcuffs, Kinky, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-06
Updated: 2010-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three days before Christmas, Kurt heads back to Lima and Officer Puckerman</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have the Right to Remain Aroused

On a whim, Kurt deserts I-70 just past Zanesville, taking a twisting path towards Lima. He's not in the mood to deal with the rush and urgency of the interstate or the traffic around Columbus. His dad isn't expecting him at any particular time and there's no snow in the forecast. The 911 is a bitch in the snow, odd for a car from Germany. But the day is clear and sunny, if very chilly – a perfect day for a drive. He can use the day to take in the sights and let the drive sooth him.

Kurt needs the time to get his head sorted out. The past month has been confusing. After spending three days in Noah's bed, he had decided that he liked the idea of a boyfriend instead of his usual string of anonymous hookups. So he's been looking around New York with different eye, assessing men as to whether they'd make good partner material instead of whether they'd be a good lay.

So far he hasn't had much luck. Part of him knows he's being too picky – that what he really wants is Noah. The rational side of his brain knows such thinking is foolish. He and Noah together would be a disaster. The distance is only part of the problem – Kurt doesn't get any sense that Noah has the same goals in life as he does.

The question is probably moot, he decides. They had exchanged email addresses, but Kurt has been reluctant to use it, not wanting to make their fling something that it isn't. Noah hasn't sent him any messages either, so he's probably had enough already. Kurt reasons that his own silence is justified. No sense in putting himself out there for some player who's going to break his heart.

The problem is that those three days had been sublime, satisfying in every way Kurt could ever ask for. His body had been well used, but that was only part of it. Kurt found in Noah a person with an irreverent sense of humor and a bad-boy appeal who at the same time can't disguise that he is a good man. They played together, both in and out of bed, with the kind of ease that Kurt has never encountered before in his life, given his troubled teenaged years.

Maybe the knowledge that what they were doing was only temporary had given Kurt the freedom to be completely himself, no holding back or trying to hide the more disagreeable aspects of his personality.

Then there is the whole thing with his family to consider. Finn had been surprised that his old friend 'Puck' had piqued Kurt's interest. Carole had murmured, 'he's a good boy, in spite of himself' which makes Kurt incredibly curious about the backstory there, but he hadn't asked her. Not yet.

Burt had done is usual ostrich-in-the-sand act with regard to Kurt's sex life, but he'd been ridiculously happy when Kurt dropped by the garage to chat while Noah had been at work. Kurt feels guilty for the distance that's sprung up between them, after the closeness they'd enjoyed while Kurt was growing up. Kurt can't stay in Lima and Burt knows it, but the truth doesn't make the situation more bearable.

The rolling Ohio countryside doesn't do anything to help Kurt decide what to do next. Part of him tightens in anticipation of seeing Noah again, but part doesn't want to get in any deeper with the sexy cop.

Twenty miles outside Lima, the landscape begins to drop away towards the plains surrounding the lakes. The back road that Kurt's on passes through a dense stretch of woodland. A motorcycle cop pulls up behind him just as the Porsche passes into the belt of trees. Kurt instantly recognizes the sleek and menacing lines of Noah's BMW with its armored fairings. He's shocked by the surge of pure desire that slams into him at the sight of Noah. He jerks the wheel slightly but recovers quickly.

The lights on the motorcycle go on, flashing red and blue in his rearview mirror. Kurt puts on his turn signal and pulls well off the road, excitement flaring in him at the memory of their first meeting. He wonders if Noah has a mind to repeat the scene.

While he waits for Noah to dismount the bike, Kurt pulls on his heavy shearling coat that has been on the passenger seat of the Porsche. Ohio winters are so much more brutal than those in New York.

Kurt watches his side mirror as Noah approaches. The tall leather boots and tight fitting uniform trousers deliciously accentuate the man's long legs. Kurt's body remembers every minute they spent together and the sight of Noah's cocky walk sends him into a state of aching need. He could jump out of the car and hurl himself into Noah's arms. However, part of him enjoys the game they're playing, so he rolls down his window while he waits for his lover to make the next move.

"Step out of the car, please, Mr. Hummel."

Noah's voice is gruff and stern, full of authority. The order serves to ratchet Kurt's arousal to a higher level and he takes a couple of breaths to make sure his voice isn't going to crack when he speaks.

He opens the door and climbs out slowly, giving Noah a chance to fully appreciate the picture of sin that he makes with his tight pants and his coat hanging open to partially reveal the silk of his shirt.

"Is there a problem, officer?" he asks, finding that his voice is shaky with nerves and desire despite his efforts to calm himself.

Noah doesn't remove his helmet or his aviators, making it difficult to interpret his expression. "Turn around, hands on the roof."

Kurt obeys, suddenly a little dismayed by Noah's attitude. How well does he really know Noah Puckerman? If he hadn't recognized the voice, he wouldn't be certain with whom he was dealing.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks as firm hands pat him down.

Fingers delve into his pockets and retrieve his car keys. The motorcycle cop locks his car, and then gloved fingers encircle his wrist, tugging him towards the bike.

"Get on," he orders, slinging his leg over the bike and settling into the curved seat, which encases his body.

The bike isn't built for two people and Kurt perches awkwardly on the top case. The saddlebags push out his legs at such an angle that he can't place them anywhere comfortable.

"I can't ride like this," he complains.

"Yes, you can. We're not going far and I'll go slow."

He switches on the engine and revs the motor. Kurt has no choice but to cling to Noah's shoulders, feeling like he's perched way too high for safety and like he's going to slide on the slick plastic of the top case. Noah pulls the bike upright and Kurt can't help but admire the strength it takes to balance the heavy police motorcycle. He watches Noah's thighs flex and his sense memory recalls when Noah was plunging himself inside Kurt's body, using the power in his legs. Kurt shivers again, the combination of lust and nerves leaving him feeling conflicted.

Noah revs the engine again and releases the clutch, moving slowly around Kurt's parked Porsche. They don't get back on the highway, but stay on the shoulder for another fifty feet or so. They turn off the pavement onto a fire road disappearing among the trees. Noah keeps his word and the motorcycle moves slowly. Kurt finds his balance eventually and finally relaxes, leaning against Noah's back.

The dirt road takes a bend and Noah pulls the bike to a stop, putting it on its stand and turning off the engine. Kurt shudders with relief. His erection has faded some due to his terror of falling off. The motorcycle cop swings his leg over the bike to dismount. Kurt slides down into the leather seat and then ungracefully gets himself off the bike. He's annoyed that Noah didn't give him any assistance and he's about to say something about it when Noah grabs Kurt's wrist and brings it behind his back.

With a metal jingle, cold steel encircles Kurt's slender wrist. Before he can gather himself to protest, the other wrist gets the same treatment and he finds himself leaning helplessly against the BMW.

"What are you doing?" he shrieks, although he vividly remembers that he was the one who suggested playing with Noah's 'accessories.'

He twists his wrists, but the steel is unyielding. He tries to stand up, but Noah leans over him, one hand in the center of his back pushing him into the bike seat and the other coming around to open Kurt's belt with his gloved fingers. He slides the zipper down and then peels Kurt's tight pants down his thighs.

"Okay, seriously . . . what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Kurt struggles to get up, but he's in such and awkward position and his pants are now trapping his legs, that all Kurt manages is an uncomfortable squirm. In the mean time, the idiotic police officer totally ignores Kurt's protests and pushes Kurt's pants past his knees. He leans his weight on Kurt, and the curving sides of the bike's seat squeeze against his torso, pinning him in place.

"Answer the fucking question, you asshole!" Kurt shrieks.

He's equal parts frightened and pissed off. He's pretty sure the cop is Noah, but the silence is getting to him. The helmet gives no clues as to the person's identity, and all Kurt has to go on is the bike and the voice he thought he recognized at first. He's afraid that he's been set up for some horrible prank by the assholes he went to school with. And even if it is Noah, Kurt never signed up for kinky sex without being asked first.

Gloved hands rub circles over his lower back.

"I thought it was pretty obvious I'm going to fuck you," Noah answers finally. Kurt relaxes a little at the confirmation that this barbarian is indeed Noah Puckerman and not some random state trooper bent on rape.

"What's with the handcuffs?"

"You suggested them, remember?"

Kurt tries to get up again, but Noah's hands haven't released him and he still can't get any leverage. "We need to talk first, establish boundaries. Don't you know anything about kink?"

Not that Kurt is really an expert about kinky sex, but he makes a point to stay informed about things that are relevant to his interests. He knows damn well that one doesn't just jump into a scene in the middle of a cornfield without talking it over first.

"Nah," Noah replies. "You'll just freak out. This is you learning to be spontaneous."

Kurt bucks violently against the hand holding him down. "Let me go!"

Noah doesn't stop rubbing his back, but doesn't make any further moves to continue their encounter. Kurt feels drained, and rests on the leather seat, trying to gather his strength to escape if he has to.

"All right," Noah says finally. "If you want me to let you go, I will. You decide . . . want me to stop or keep going?"

"Will you take the cuffs off?"

"No . . . you give in to this, or you go on your own way."

"Your way or the highway?" Kurt snarls.

"For now," Noah agrees. "Not for everything."

The fight goes out of Kurt then. He wants Noah to fuck him, he admits to himself. In fact, he's thought of nothing else in the month since Thanksgiving. But he hates giving up control of their liaison. He doesn't trust people very easily, which is why he hasn't gotten into a relationship before now. But Noah is demanding things from him that Kurt's never given anyone.

"All right," he says finally. "Can you at least take the helmet off? It's just . . . disturbing."

"Okay," Noah says, letting go of Kurt long enough to unlatch the helmet and set it on the ground.

Kurt sighs with relief when he sees Noah's unmistakable and gorgeous eyes. "Better," he murmurs, relaxing a little.

"Perfect," Noah says, leaning down and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the very top of Kurt's cleft.

Kurt waits impatiently for Noah to move lower, because the man has a talented tongue and Kurt has come squealing more than once with Noah's mouth sucking on his hole. But instead, he hears the creak of leather and turning his head, sees Noah digging something out of the depths of his uniform. He pulls out a condom and a bottle of lube.

"This has been in my inside pocket," Noah informs him. "Keeps it warm."

At the reminder of the cold winter day, and his bare ass and thighs, Kurt gives a shiver. He had forgotten that he was utterly exposed to the wind and the air down there.

"Well, hurry up. I'm cold," he bitches.

Noah pours a liberal amount of lube directly over Kurt's hole. He shivers again as the liquid trickles down through the hair on his balls. The familiar sounds of foil and latex reach his ears, and Kurt waits impatiently for the feel of Noah's fingers opening him.

Instead, he feels the unmistakable sensation of something much larger and blunter than a finger pressing against him.

"You didn't prep me," Kurt protests.

"You're lubed, I'm lubed," Noah answers. "You take shits bigger than me."

"I can't do this without prep," Kurt insists, ignoring Noah's crude reasoning. This is why he doesn't actually his quickie hook-ups to fuck him – he requires lots of careful stretching before he can take a cock inside, so he prefers hand jobs and blowjobs when there's limited time and space.

Noah doesn't seem to care, just pushes against him. "Yes, you can. Open for me."

"No." Kurt squirms again, but Noah's gloved hands won't release him.

"Give it up, Kurt. Let me in."

The pressure on his opening increases, and Kurt knows without being told that Noah will force his way inside if Kurt doesn't find a way to accept the intrusion. He breathes harshly, struggling to relax his muscles. He presses down as Noah pushes inside him, an inexorable slide of hard flesh into his depths.

When Noah bottoms out, Kurt expects him to immediately start pounding into him, given the way this thing has been going so far. But again, Noah surprises him, holding himself still while his hands rub Kurt's flanks. Finally realizing that he's all right and not actually in pain, Kurt calms down and begins to enjoy the feeling of Noah's cock pressing against his sensitive insides. Then he realizes that the hands touching him are still encased in leather gloves. The utter wrongness of his vulnerability and helplessness couldn't be more obvious, but he discovers that he likes it. Waves of desire roll through him, making him squirm, but not in protest this time.

Noah doesn't move, holding on with seemingly superhuman patience. Kurt wants to press back against his lover, but he still can't gain any leverage or the proper angle to fuck himself on Noah.

"Dammit, move!" Kurt demands.

With a chuckle, Noah adjusts his grip on Kurt and begins long, languid strokes. Kurt finds his dick rising with the treatment, as Noah brushes against his prostate with every stroke. Kurt wants to get his hand on himself and he flails futilely against the handcuffs. Noah ignores his struggles and quickens the pace. All too soon for Kurt's pleasure, Noah's rhythm stutters as he plunges even deeper inside Kurt's body. He shakes as he comes.

Kurt whines, desperately trying to scrape his cock on something, anything, to get off. But the curve of the seat holds him tightly to the point where he really can't move without squashing his internal organs, and he can't drive himself to the point of orgasm.

Finally, Noah pulls Kurt's hips back and his gloved hand closes around Kurt's overlooked erection. Kurt sighs with relief as Noah tugs on his cock. The leather feels oddly warm and cold at the same time, evoking interesting sensations that quickly become overwhelming. Noah keeps working him even as Kurt comes with a shout. He sprays come all over the seat, and he feels a small amount of vicious satisfaction at the mess. Kurt dangles his head down, feeling sweat rolling into his hair.

Noah holds Kurt's hips while he slowly pulls out. He takes the condom off and tosses it away to land somewhere in the weeds. Kurt thinks he should get up and pull himself back together, but he's too enervated to move. Noah laughs and reaches down, rubbing Kurt's fluids into the leather of the seat. The gesture is oddly hot and Kurt might respond to it when he gets his wind back.

"Mmm," Noah purrs, "I'll have you with me all the time now, riding with me."

"That's gross and touching at the same time."

Noah pulls him up, working the handcuffs until they drop off Kurt's wrists. He leans against the bike, and opens his thighs, tucking Kurt into the vee of his legs and holding him tightly against his chest. Kurt doesn't understand why he feels weak and shaky, but he curls into the solidity and warmth Noah offers.

"Fuck, you were so beautiful like that, giving in to me. So fucking gorgeous. You have any idea how hot that is?" he asks, firm fingers under Kurt's chin, tipping his mouth up for a kiss.

Kurt opens his mouth to allow the invasion, still shivering a little, but Noah runs comforting hands up and down his back and Kurt gradually feels himself settling, feeling calmer and definitely more peaceful. He sighs a little.

"I know Burt isn't expecting you until this evening," Noah declares. "We can go back to my place and I can finish taking care of you, baby."

The endearment sets off warning alarms in Kurt's brain and he remembers that he isn't planning on taking this any further. He's already surrendered too much as it is, although he can write this latest incident off as overactive hormones. This is just sex, after all. Plus he's pissed that Noah brought out the handcuffs without asking him first, or getting a safeword, or doing anything rational at all.

"I'm looking for a boyfriend," Kurt says when his brain finally gets back on line, knowing that he has to explain the facts to this ridiculously persistent and thick skulled cop.

Noah smiles, "Okay."

"In New York," Kurt clarifies.

"Oh." Noah loosens his grip on Kurt's waist.

"So, yeah. This has been fun and educational," Kurt says. He shrugs, "I come back here infrequently. I need someone who can be around full time. I have needs."

"Yeah, got it." Noah lets go of him entirely.

Kurt pulls his pants up, grimacing as the mess in his pubic hairs tugs at his skin when he arranges himself. Noah puts his helmet back on and straddles the bike. He doesn't say anything as Kurt climbs on behind him. Kurt rests his hands on Noah's waist, ignoring the brief flash of fantasy of taking off on Noah's bike for distant places. Kurt dismisses the thought. Noah's bike really isn't meant for two people, and that should tell him something right there.

Back at his car, Kurt feels like he should say something, but all he can think of is, "Happy holidays."

Noah grunts something unintelligible and Kurt gives a disdainful sniff before he settles himself in the driver's seat.

As he drives off, Kurt glances in his rearview mirror. Noah is leaning on his bike, rubbing his hands over the smooth surface of his helmet. Kurt feels an odd, weird pressure on his chest like he's made a mistake and allowed something precious slip through his fingers. He shakes his head, dismissing the peculiar thought. No, letting Noah go is the right thing to do – they would never work as a couple. All he's feeling is the usual high expectations and emotional roller coaster that inevitably accompanies Christmas.

The road turns and Noah disappears from sight.


End file.
